Drabbles 30 kisses etc Chris and Winia
by TheTruthIsALie
Summary: You know the drill! 30 themes, 30 drabbles. Desperately in need of a better summery and a better title . Reviews loved, but any support appreciated.
1. The Drabbles Begin 1 5

**Hiya! This is my second ever fan fiction, so welcome. This was written for several reasons,**

**Boredom**

**Practice writing this couple**

**Using my account for more than P. my favourite authors, begging them to update (if that is you, thank you very much for your wonderful story, and I'm sorry if I'm a nuisance)**

**And finally, to make the world total of ChrisxWinia go up to 4!**

**Thank you for reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything used in this fan fiction.**

**30 kisses, Chris and Winia, Part 1 01-05**

over here!

Winia stood outside the gate of the Bailaha mansion with Leo at her side. He heart was pounding; was it nervousness? Or something more. She watched as the carriage drew up and a young man stepped out. He was of a short demeanour, with a hansom face and soft chestnut hair. He was dressed differently from their first meeting, a reflection of his recent change of lifestyle, his clothes reflecting his new life of aristocracy. She watched as he walked briskly past her, brushing against her as lightly as a kiss, but showing no sign of having noticed her.

Christopher watched from inside the carriage, watched her figure grow closer as they approached his new home. He saw, from the corner of his eye, her face light up, and felt a warmth he couldn't explain fill him. He felt the spark, as they brushed together lightly, and the little tug upon his heart for every step he took away. He reached the gate and stopped.

She watched, as he turned slowly to face her, he saw, as their eyes met. And then, the moment was gone. Because all they could do was look.

2. News; letter.

The postman stopped for a moment outside the Bailaha estate, and smiled down at the gently sleeping form, sitting with his knees up against his chest and a cloak wrapped around him. His smile broadened as his pale grey eyes alighted upon a lithe figure dressed in green waiting to ambush him as he walked up the drive. He looked down at the sleeping boy again and said;

"Mornin' Christopher, didn't think you'd be up this early!" Christopher woke with a start, and was on his feet in a second, looking around wildly as he took in his surroundings. Within a second he had composed him self, and unwilling revealed his intentions with a glance over his shoulder to where his comrade and subordinate Fafel would no doubt be waiting.

"Yes, I was just wondering, did I get any mail perchance?" He tried to look casual as he said it, but the man noticed the slightly eager inflection in his voice. He decided to play with him.

"Ah, now, I think there _was_ something. From somewhere up near Tourus I believe. But I'm sure you can wait and let the baroness see it fir-"

"No!" Chris looked positively panicked now, and his eyes once again flickered over his shoulder. "I mean," he continued, regaining his composure, "I'll just take it now, if it's alright with you."

"Oh, but I'm sure the-"

"Now, if you please." His eyes had gone suddenly dark, and the man knew he was pushing his luck. He gave Chris the letter without a fight, and watched him jog around the outer wall of the estate, possibly hoping to avoid any conflict. He himself was resigned to his usual dosage of assault/interrogation from the female members of the Obstinate Arrow.

When he returned home to his wife later in the day, and she startled at his bruised body and muddy clothes, he would kiss her.

!

"A staring contest."

"What?"

"To decide who has to stay here and help clean up camp."

Christopher smiled.

"Deal."

They knelt down facing one and other, golden eyes locked onto cold blue ones (A.N. Chris's eyes are described as blue in the light novels). Chris sat perfectly still and balanced, smirking when Winia became uncomfortable and fidgety, but she still never broke his gaze. After a minuet or two his eyes had begun to water, but hers were still unnaturally clear. Now she was smirking. Chris was on no account a good loser, and would go to almost any lengths to win, even if it required using some very cheap tricks…

Chris moved so fast that Winia had no time to react, pressing his lips against hers and pulling away just as quickly. Winia fell back, startled, blinking furiously, and caught her opponents gaze. He was grinning, and it had begun to dawn on her what he had been planning all along.

"You, you, you…" By the time she had come up with a decent description of his actions, Chris was long gone.

4. Our distance, and that boy.

Winia watched from a distance as the man that she loved clung to another, panic in his eyes as he watched the life drain from his best friend. Forsyth lay in Chris's arms, stirring slightly, as Pacifica awakened also. She saw the relief, the pure love that Chris felt expressed in his eyes, as Forsyth opened his and took a deep ragged breath. Leo, Shannon and Raquel encircled Pacifica, as Chris helped his loved one to his feet, and she could watch no more.

She ran from the temple, just as the rain began, pale droplets kissing her boy as tears began to stream down her face. Never before had she felt so alone.

5. "Hey, you know…"

Winia sat with Pacifica, peeling potatoes for that days lunch. They sat in silence for a moment, when Pacifica turned to her friend and tried to begin a conversation. Winia was mostly unresponsive. She could tell by the expression of her friends face exactly what the conversation was going to be about, and she wasn't in the mood to talk about _him_ just now. Pacifica sighed and had begun to let her eyes wonder around the camp when she noticed a figure standing in the shadows, watching the girl next to her out of the corner of his blue eyes. She gave him a meaningful glance, and blew him a kiss, before turning to her friend.

"Hey, you know…I think he really likes you." She watched with satisfaction as her friend turned red.

**You know the drill; read, review, please don't flame!**


	2. The Author Returns! 6 10

**I am not alone!**

**I have discovered traffic and now know that some (ok, twenty-three) people are actually reading this! Unfortunately, none of them are reviewing, so I have no idea what they thought…**

**The Chapter (6-10) dedicated to Mapo (hope you don't mind), the only one who has showed any response so far!**

**Merci!**

The Space Between Dream And Reality

Winia tossed and turned violently, entangled in her sheets and with sweat soaking the cloth around her. Her eyes were shut tightly, and small moans escaped from her every now and then, desperate cries for help. What was worse though, he thought, was when there were no pleas…when she suffered her nightmares in silence. He knew all to well that it was impossible to wake her before the nightmare was over, for he had tried many times, with the same result. It hurt him to see her like this, tormented by whatever it was inside her head that sent her these nightmares, something she had never told him. He lent towards her and placed one hand against her cheek. Her hand came up and covered his, and she seemed to calm slightly, gripping so tight that her knuckles went white. Chris lent forwards and kissed away the tears now streaming down her face, silently praying, as usual, for the break of dawn.

Superstar

Ever since the botched end of the world Pacifica and her siblings had been plagued by hordes of people begging to know more about the infamous 'scrapped princess' and how she had survived being hunted down by all of Dustvin's best assassins and bounty hunters. It was getting to the point when Pacifica had been sneaking about in disguise, simply to avoid the masses of people either wanting to court or question her. The former of these had been the biggest problem, and Winia laughed to see Leo and Shannon marching on either side of her poor, trapped best friend, fending off the waves of young men wolf whistling and blowing kisses and the increasingly agitated Pacifica. Standing at the sidelines Winia couldn't help but feel a little jealous of the attention. Her best friend could get flocks of men to fall for her, and she couldn't manage even _one._

Our Own World

She was adamant. He was reproachful. She was pleading. He was refusing. She was arguing. His argument was weakening. She put her foot down. He agreed to take her up to the glass canyon once again.

She knelt, he sat cross legged. Although they talked for hours never once did they glance \at one and other, preferring to watch the steadily rising moon. He was surprised when she put her arm around him, having being preparing to do so himself, but not unduly upset.

They talked for hours, about life, about Pacifica and Forsyth, about trees, about birds (skirting embarrassedly around bees), about fate, and prophecy, and about their parents. When night had fallen for real, they returned to the inn to find Winia's uncle waiting. Thankfully they saw him before he saw them, and were able to avoid detection long enough for a goodnight kiss.

Dash

Chris staggered backwards clutching his head, and twisted quickly to avoid the second swinging of the broomstick he would have earlier avoided, had he not been otherwise occupied. The man on the other end of the broomstick was red faced with outrage, as he stumbled forwards from the weight he had given to that last blow. "Please sir, if I could only…" Chris began, but was cut short by the mans bellow of,

"Don't you 'sir' me boy! How _dare_ you come _near _this place again! After…" A crowd was beginning to form around what looked to be a promising brawl, and a few people were beginning to recognise Christopher from the incident involving the scrapped princess, and others as the kidnapper from said incident. The villagers were whispering to one and other, swapping rumours, and Chris decided that now would probably be a diplomatic time to escape. He spun around, facing his attacker head on and pulled the broomstick from his hand, breaking it into before turning and dashing away, cloak billowing behind him. Winia stood frozen on the porch, her lips still burning.

10#

Winia sat with her arms wrapped around her legs, and her eyes down-cast. Occasionally she would tilt her head to the right, to get a quick glimpse of the boy sitting next to her. She repeated this action every few minutes, and each time felt a quick rush of adrenaline shoot through her. She anticipated every coming moment, trying to collect herself enough to say something, _anything_, before they returned to camp and the moment was lost. She didn't even really know how this had happened in the first place. Chris had just happened to be on guard in the same place as she had been sent by Fafel to collect fire wood. Now she thought about it, Fafel _had _looked rather suspicious. She and Pacifica had been giggling like mad as she entered the forest. She should have expected something like this – the Obstinate Arrow and her friend had been trying for weeks to get her to tell Christopher how she felt (although after a while they probably would have settled for a brief 'hello' from the chronically shy teenager).

_Three, two, one. _She counted down the moments until she could look again. She turned her head, and froze when she met the eyes of Christopher, caught in exactly the same position, head tilted to look at her. He froze too, and a blush spread across his face at the same time it did hers. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but she turned her head away, breaking their eye contact. Her heart was beating erratically, and she tried with all her might to focus on something else, ignoring the fact that Christopher was still looking at her. After spending three, drawn out minutes trying to appear fascinated with a small spider crawling up a blade of grass, she permitted herself another glance. One, last glance. He smiled softly, prompting her to speak.

"Uh, um, uh, d-d-d-…" her voice was shaking erratically, shyness creeping up inside her and turning her resolve into dust. She searched her head franticly for something to say, and came up with nothing other than,

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen…" _Oh, he was younger than her._

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Blue…" _Not surprising._

"What's your favourite food?"

"Pastry…" _She's have to look up some recipes…_

"What's your favourite number?"

"Ten…" _Ten?_

"Why ten?" He looked vaguely accosted.

"I don't know! What's wrong with ten?"

"Nothing, nothing, it's just…ten." Suddenly, Chris burst out laughing.

"Why are you laughing?!" she cried, hurt. He bowed his head, still laughing, until his mirth subsided and he raised his head again to look at her. His eyes were bright, quite a change from his usual cold detachment, and then suddenly became serious, holding her gaze like a hawk. At the same time Winia realised that she could feel his breath on her lips, and how close they had become, noses inches apart. She held his gaze for a long moment, until he pulled away from their almost-kiss.

"You ought to get back to camp." An order. Oh-well. Winia sighed and got to her feet, the merriment of the last few moments gone.

Chris was silent as she collected up the firewood and returned to camp, but couldn't resist a chuckle once she was well out of earshot. _What an extra-ordinary girl…_

I hope you liked it! I think this one is a definite improvement on the last one characterisation-wise…my biggest trouble is that I finished the second light novel just before starting this story, so I'm basing the characters on that more than the anime…and in the novels Chris is slightly different (although it may just be the translation).

**I probably wont continue without at least **_**one **_**review so please, please click the little green button. Constructive criticism welcome! Flames not.**

**-snoetiger **


	3. Am I Alone In This Story? 11 15

**11-15**

**Disclaimer- If I owned this…you know the drill, it's not mine.**

**(A.N. sorry about the lack of chronology, I just really don't know where each theme will take me-might repost in order when I'm done though. )**

Gardenia

Winia loved life. Well, she loved all life that wasn't her own. It had always fascinated Christopher, whose very existence required him to sacrifice others, to see someone who would die in the name of protection at a moments notice. Her own existence meant nothing to her, and yet she valued all living things, plants and animals alike. Her touch was a kiss of life, bringing wimp and seemingly shrivelled plants back to blooming prosperity. He never saw her more animated than when she was working in the garden. She seemed to know instinctively exactly what each plant needed to grow stronger, and increase its longevity. It wasn't long after discovering her hobby that Chris began, in the confines of his own mind, to call her 'daughter nature'.

In A Good Mood

It wasn't often the Winia found herself in a good mood. It was almost unheard of that she would be seen dancing around the basement during her sweeping, humming loudly and with the vigour that only to truly tone deaf can achieve. She was moving an a complex but non the less predictable pattern, that gravitated around the letter sitting on the centre table. Occasionally her dance would return her to the letter, and she would pick it up, twirl it over her head, and kiss it, before returning it to its position, and her to her tuneless merriment. It was in these times that her uncle could almost forgive Christopher Bailaha.

Excessive Chain

Bound. That was the only way to describe it. Wherever she was, she thinking of him, and ever he was doing his mind was on her. Not obsessively, but in any moment when their minds were not fully occupied their thoughts would pull them gently towards their last meeting, and their anticipations of the future, running over the same moments. First touch, first kiss…the first time she told him she loved him. The first time that he admitted that he thought she was beautiful. Walking together beneath an umbrella, and racing hand in hand through the rain when neither had one. Moments bound them together like a chain, but neither would have it any other way.

Radio-Cassette Player

Winia sat in her and Chris's bedroom, watching the, the _thing _with fascinated curiosity. It was a thing of the new world, a blackish lump of 'plastic' that she had found the last time she and Chris had travelled there on business. He was a baron after all, and she was a baron's wife. A baron's _expectant _wife. Not that she had told him yet. Occasionally she would reach out and press down on one on the mobile squares on its top, or run a finger across the rough circular mesh that covered half of what she assumed was the front.. It was rubbish, she had been told, broken. And it was true that the plastic surface had been battered and melted slightly, as though it had been close to an explosion of some sort, but she had kept it any way.

"Somebody told me what it is." Winia was startled. She hadn't even heard him come in. Christopher knelt down beside her, gently brushing a few rouge strands of hair away from her face. She nuzzled into his side, breathing in his soft scent, and mumbled,

"I thought you wanted to throw it out?" Once she had gotten herself comfy, Chris put an arm around her and said,

"It's a radio-cassette player."

"What's that?"

"I don't know…" She pulled away indignantly.

"Christopher!"

"What?"

"You said you knew what it was!"

"OK, I know what it's _called_…" he grinned sheepishly, and distinctly heard her mutter something along the lines of 'useless'. Their friendly banter continued, up until the point, when Winia had been gesticulating wildly and had knocked the alleged 'radio-cassette player' from it's perch. They froze, watching the device warily. And it began to play the most entrancing piece of music either had ever heard. A sweet lullaby of love and loss, woven into sounds that twisted and soared with inhuman beauty. When the song was done they were still frozen, until the player made a belching, grinding, twisting metallic sound, and ate the tape. Winia gave a sickly little giggle, unsure of what to say. They stared at each other for a long moment, until Winia said slowly, "There's something I need to tell you…"

Perfect Blue

Pacifica's eyes were a perfect blue, cloudless and innocent. It was hard to imagine what she'd been through in the past year, thought Winia speculatively as her friend tucked in to a welcome back cake the baker had made for her and her siblings. He was one of the few residents who were still friendly to Pacifica after the attacks by the peacemakers, and needless to say it was shaped like Mr Soopy.

Forsyth's eyes were a perfect blue, cloudless and innocent. It was hard to imagine the choices ha had had to make only a month or so ago, thought Chris speculatively as he and his friend drilled in the palaces courtyard. He knew Forsyth was only doing it to stop him from becoming restless, and was grateful.

His weren't. Hers weren't. And as they realised in unison where their thoughts were taking them, a blush kissed their cheeks, and they were forced to turn away.

Yay, more drabbles completed.

**Thanks again to Mapo, still my only reviewer…**

**Seriously guys, even a 'hi, I'm reading this' type message would be great, just so I have more of a reason to continue!**

**It can't be that hard!**

**-snoetiger**


	4. Happy Valentines Day 16 19

**More drabbleness, yay!**

**Kisses 16-19**

**I do not own Scrapped Princess, or anything associated.**

Invincible, Unrivalled

"Christopher!" The young man looked up as his wife entered the meeting, who was smiling broadly but with a hint of cruel satisfaction. In her hands was a plate of brownies, which she placed in the centre of the wide table, much to the delight of the other generals and to the discomfiture of Chris. This was exactly why he always voted to have their meetings _elsewhere…_Winia _always_ set out to embarrass him, time and time again. Barging into meetings, just to kiss him on the cheek, or ask why he had left dirty washing on the floor again, or even to make excruciating and yet universally (a word that here means 'to everyone who wasn't Chris') hilarious innuendos. Sweet and complacent Winia Bailaha seemed to save all her malice for the assorted generals visits. Her growing imagination and sharp tongue were invincible…unrivalled.

Kilohertz

The clock ticked, keeping perfect time with the passage of existence around it.

Thump….thump…thump….thump….

Raindrops spattered the windowsill, a symphony of tiny, tiny thuds.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Christopher fingers drummed lightly on the desk, and stopped.

.…

Winia's foot stopped in the middle of a tap, as their lips met.

…thump…

And as they pulled away form the kiss, sound returned to the world.

Thump…Thump…Thump…Thump…

Say 'Ahh…'

Christopher awoke in a strange bed, in a strange place, with absolutely no idea how he had got there. His head was fuzzy…had he been drinking? Uh-oh…it didn't take a genius to put two and two together, and make…

"Chris? Are you feeling alright." Chris pulled himself up quickly, his eyes fixed on the figure in the door way. A blush spread across his cheeks, mind racing. What _exactly _was he doing in _this _inn, in _this _town, in _this _bed? The baroness was going to have a field day, make no mistake. The girl walked over to his bedside and placed one hand on his forehead…checking his temperature? What…

"Winia, why am I here?" he said, hurriedly. She looked taken aback, as though surprised he didn't know.

"You collapsed in the town square, remember? One of your friends brought you here, the red haired one, and, um, she asked if we could look after you um…" her voice trailed off. Chris gave a sigh of relief. He remembered now…embarrassing as it was, it was better than… "But what did _you _think had happened?" He looked at her. She looked back, confused. Slowly, however, realisation dawned. It was her turn to blush. "Oh!" she exclaimed. Chris turned red again.

"Um."

"Um."

"Yes."

"Nothing happened."

"Yes. Good."

"Good." They stared at each other for another long moment, before Winia turned tail and scurried out. Chris flopped back onto the bed. He was glad nothing had happened…right?

Red.

Christopher was frozen.

_Too late, too late, too late…_

His eyes never left the body of his friend, his second in command.

She was so young…we're all so young…

She lay spread eagled, limbs outstretched as though caught in motion.

It could have been you…it could have been anyone…

Her hair was tangled, her lips parted, her clothes stained.

_Red._

The colour of blood.

The colour of death… I cant live like this…

His shaking hand reached for his belt, drawing a long silver knife from its sheath. Still shaking he brought it up so the blade quivered before his heart.

Do it.

No…

Do it!

"Chris!" A hand grasped at his sleeve. He turned his head, barely away of his surroundings, to look at the red-headed girl. It was only then that he thought he might one-day find some virtue in the colour.

Heh, heh…

**I spent so long updating (for me...)**

**And I only did four…**

**I have failed you!**

***weeps***

**On a different note…**

**PLEASE DEAR GOD REVIEW!!!**

***weeps***

**I'm not having a very happy day am I…**


	5. Brain Fluff 20 23 and 2 Randoms

**I'm alive! Yay!**

**I took my first two themes from the 100 themes, because I was stuck for inspiration.**

**Dedicated to YOU!**

**Yes you.**

**And also to prettystarshine ;) thanks for adding me your alert.**

Savings Box

(This is pre-adoption.)

Christopher stared meekly at the small, cardboard thing in his hands. He shook it and it gave a feeble metallic rattle. About twelve pennies, at a guess. Not surprising; the military paid peanuts. But surely he should have more than this! Where had all his savings gone? He was usually quite good with money. The military supplied him with clothes, food and board. He had no hobbies and kept his room very minimalist-you could hardly tell someone lived there at all. Where was all his money going?

Winia sat in her small room in the Big Bear inn. She ran her fingers over the smooth silk scarf in her hands and blushed softly at the memory of Chris presenting it to her earlier that day. It was beautiful, but she had no idea how he could possible afford it without spending most of his money. Her blush deepened, and she resolved to tell him not to overspend too much. She would be happy as long as he was kind to her.

Photograph

Winia awoke, alone, in the middle of the night. She was shivering violently, and the cold was what alerted her to her husbands absence. Winia dragged herself out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown. She walked slowly down the corridor and pushed open the door to her husbands study. Sure enough, there he was asleep at his desk, a small piece of paper scrunched up in his left hand. She tiptoed until she stood beside him and knelt down until they were face to face. Her eyes never leaving Christopher's hansom features, she pulled the photograph from his hand. He stirred slightly, but stayed dead to the world. She unfolded it and looked, although she already knew what she would see. It was a black and white photograph – a group photo with Chris standing in the middle. He was surrounded by at least twenty other people, but closest to him were Fafel, Dennis, Sutton and Jill. His most loyal Obstinate Arrows. She stared wordlessly at the photo for a long time. Even now, after so much time had passed, it still felt unreal to think that they were all dead. They had died in battle, having been called up for war almost year ago. Christopher had commanded that they all be given a proper funeral. She had never seen him like that before. Broken.

She had stopped him from going, begged that he stay with her. She couldn't bear to lose him, and now, because of her selfishness, he had lost so _so _much. And she knew that part of him, no matter what he said, would never forgive her.

The Road Home

She wasn't sure what was keeping her in the capital. It was a nice city, but it was also jut that, a city. She was unused to the hustle and bustle of the place, of not knowing her way around, of there being strangers everywhere she looked. In a _way _it was better…at least the people at home didn't know how badly she had been snubbed. She had little respect among the villagers as it was. They needn't know how badly it had hurt her when he had ignored her like that…definitely not. She could leave at any time, so what was holding her back? Was it fear? There had been rumours…and her uncle had warned her to be sure to be back (without putting too fine a point upon it) within at the most nine months…her face turned involuntarily red.

But then what were they suppose to think? She had to admit it, it was a bit suspicious…guy kidnaps girl, girl goes running off to find him…not that she had said that was where she was going. But they had guessed. So yes, fear was a part of it. But there was something else…was it…hope?

Violence

Winia focused on the sound of footsteps behind her…yes they were still there. The men were still following her, and with no signs of tiring of their pursuit. She tried to pick up her pace, but they copied her, and her blood pressure was surely rising. Her heart was pounding and he had begun to shake. The fact that she was hopelessly lost did nothing to improve her situation. She counted slowly in her head…three…two…one…now! She set off at a run, a last ditch attempt at escape, and heard the footsteps behind her pick up in pace. One of the men shouted, and a figure leapt out from an alleyway to her left and grabbed her before she could react and dragged her off to the side of the street. The two men who were her pursuers cheered him and something like bile rose up in her throat as the attacker covered her mouth with a wide callous hand. The men laughed in unison as she struggled vainly to escape. Suddenly, the attacked slammed her into the wall and smashed his lips against hers. Winia cried out, but it was muffled, and she had little choice but to stay put as he continued to assault her. She could taste the rancid essence of alcohol on his lips and in his breath. Then one of his grubby hands rose to her bosom and she panicked and bit down hard on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. The man cried out, stepping back, and swinging a fist at her. The blow disorientated her completely, and she was forced to be still as he scrabbled at the fastenings of her shirt. Tears were streaming down Winia's face and just as she was about to black out she felt the mans weight lifted off her. She raised her eyes to meet Christopher's…she had never seen him so angry. Her original pursuers lay bloodied, but still breathing, and her assaulter was spread eagled on the ground where Chris had thrown him. Winia had time to stumble forward with a small cry of; "Chris!" before his arms enveloped her and she blacked out. Gently Chris lifted her up and held her limp body close to him as he carried her to safety.

Cradle

Chris was woken in the night by his wife's tossing and turning. She pulled herself out of bed and staggered to the bathroom, and he was treated to the sound of her being violently sick. _Why, _he thought mournfully to himself, _do they call it 'morning sickness' if it lasts __**all day. **_Eventually though, Winia stopped being sick and greeted him once again with her presence.

"Sorry." She mumbled tiredly and apologetically, and got back into to bed. He wrapped an arm around her and her swollen stomach, snuggling into her and was just about to drift off to sleep when he heard her crying softly.

"Winia?" He gently brushed the tears from her face and turned her to face him. "What's wrong?" She cried quietly for a few moments before looking up at him again.

"I…I…I'm scared Chris." The words came out in a flurry and instantly she regretted them. His hand froze for a second and then proceeded to brush the hair form her face.

"Winia…" His eyes were full of regret. She knew he still blamed himself for her condition, although like the baroness had said (to the mortification of the pair) to her furious adoptive uncle, it does 'take two to tango'. "It's not like that!" she reassured him quickly. "It's just…we're both orphans. I have no memories of being raised by my parents…how are we going it cope!" Chris looked surprised, and then serious, and then thoughtful.

"At least we can't do any worse." She smiled and chuckled softly, although unsure if he was joking or not. Slowly they fell asleep in each others arms, trusting in each other, and in the future.

**Aww**

**Well, these have been quite depressing :'(**

**Sorry.**

**At least they're hopefully better than the last ones (which were truly terrible once I read them through).**

**Thanks to all of you who haven't given up on me yet :) :P**

**More uplifting next time I think!**

**~snoetiger**

**And I didn't forget.**

**If you are reading this, review (yes YOU, even if you already have, please, I need to feedback to know how to improve-and trust me I need to improve).**


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